Two writers for the price of one blog

FightHER

Her face peeked through the smoke like the eastern face of a mountain at dawn. The sticky redness of her lips stained her cigarette. He realized what had looked like messy eyeshadow was a healing shiner. He stared at her intently, his lips moving.

“You lost or somethin’?” she said. Her city accent clashed with her anime heroine voice. Her glossy brown eyes moved from an indeterminate place in the crowd to his face. He cleared his throat and opened wide, but only a whimper came out. She laughed and slapped his back hard enough to make his ribcage boom. “Man up, tiger. I ain’t got all night.”

A man covered in tattoos approached her space confidently, his smile piranha bright. Before his first word she turned and kissed him hard. Her tongue tasted of tobacco and rosewater. His hands clutched at her open-sided tank top until one of her breasts peeked out. It was covered with dark barbwire thorns that made her nipple look even more tender and vulnerable.

“Listen kid, I’m not one of them mysterious ladies or whatnot, whattaya call ’em? Oh, ‘femme fatales’.” She smiled between her air quotes. “I’m just slightly more colorful than some is all. Don’t get it twisted.” She sighed wearily and looked deep into his eyes. “Y’understand?”

He understood her completely.

She eyed him up and down. “What exactly do you want from me anyway?”

“Dunno,” he said, shrugging.

The edge of her smudged lip twitched. “We’ll have to work on that.” She stood up and her frayed jeans rode so low he could guess the last time she shaved. “Let’s go,” she said, and walked out, pulling him after her.

They went up the stairs and past couples with nowhere else to go. A woman moaned roughly as he tried to find his key. She kissed the corner of his lip. “I wanna violate those dimples with my tongue,” she said as she pushed him inside. He flipped on the light and waved his arms.

“This is it.”

She stripped as though she was in the privacy of her own home. Her ass was a morbid still life underneath her shirt, flowers and a smiling skull.

“Can I smoke in here?”

“Yes.” He was an asthmatic.

She lit her cigarillo and threw her leg over the arm of his easy chair. The dark upholstery made her pink shocking. “Nice place. Clean.” He scrambled to get her a teacup when he saw her ash into her hand. He avoided looking between her spread legs as he handed it to her.

She shifted so the wings of her hips moved underneath her skin. “Come here.” He knelt in front of her, hands at his side. Her caress crackled against his beard. “You speak Spanish? You look like you do.”

He shrugged. “A bit.”

“Me too,” she said in English. She lifted his shirt and his belly tightened. “Look at all that virgin flesh.”

She took off her shirt. The riotous colors made him wonder whether they bled through from the inside. She ran her fingers through his furry cheeks, then pressed his face between her breasts.

“Tickle me.” She giggled at his confused look. “‘Wit’ your beard, silly. Go on.” His prickly chin brushed her nipple and she moaned softly. He rubbed his cheeks against her until her nipples peaked into hard nubs, then finally licked. She shivered but still pushed him down. “Go lower.”

He rubbed against her flat belly and traced a thorny rose vine to the wing of her hip. He tickled her belly right above her mound and she spread her legs further. Her inner thighs were glossy, and her scent was both strange and familiar. She nudged his head down until they were lips to lips. There was a silver bead peeking from underneath her swollen bud. He rubbed until his beard was wet, but as he got the courage to lick she turned and knelt on the chair. She arched and spread so her asshole twitched a hair’s breadth from his nose. He grabbed her hips and licked her. His tongue darted and poked, and it took a full ten seconds before he registered the agony in his scalp. His grunts turned to a groan and he stopped. Her face rose like the moon over her shoulder.

“Am I doing it wrong?” He asked.

“That’s my ass.” She gave him a bemused look. “Where’s your bed?” He pointed to an open alcove off the living room. She walked to his bed, still holding him lightly by the hair. His bed was made with military precision. “Your sheets are so clean.” She crawled onto his bed and arched her back.

“Do it again?”

The skull on her side winked as she wiggled. “Yes. But take off your clothes first.”

“Everything?” His face reddened.

“Everything, beautiful,” she said.

He held his breath as he lifted his shirt over his head, baring his bandages. He unbuttoned his jeans and kicked them off. The packer looked obscene jutting so low over his flared hips.

He dove between her thighs tongue-first. He traced the tiny ridges, and her ass squeezed the tip of his tongue. He opened his eyes and there was a clear string of wetness dripping from her pussy to his sheets, making a quarter sized puddle that was warm to the touch. His tongue moved past her perineum and to her slit, where there were new tastes. Not cherry. Not persimmon. Musk and musk and salt and sweat. He thrust his hips blindly into the air. His briefs were soaked.

She wrestled him on his back and straddled him, making his belly wet.

“I never tasted boy before,” she said as she moved down his body. She wiggled the soft heaviness between his legs, then pulled, a naughty magic trick. The silk handkerchief was damp and fragrant. She brought it close to her face and sniffed deeply. He gasped.

“What?” she said, giggling. “It’s like licking the wrapper, you know? The first taste.” She started to undo the bandages. He took a deep breath as the blood returned to his flesh. Her fading lipstick made a ring around his nipples as she licked and sucked them. Her hand dipped into his briefs and caressed. His heat made her see double, but she didn’t dare explore further.

“Is it okay if I use my fingers?”

“Fuck yes,” he said, pulling down his briefs. He spread his legs wide and let her see. He was all silky hair and pink that rivaled her own.

“Yes,” she said as she bowed between his legs. His swollen bud rubbed against the bridge of her nose as she rooted deep inside him with fingers and tongue. She dug her fingers into his hips and sucked him off, and soon the sheets beneath were wet with her eager saliva and wetness.

“I want to fuck you.” He said it so softly she didn’t hear him over her own pleasure. He tapped her cheek lightly. “Please. Let me inside you.”

She got on her hands and knees, her ass raised high. “You never had to beg.” She smiled cheshire-slow. He pulled something out from underneath his pillow and scrambled around in his bedside table for lube. She held his hard cock, traced up the molded shaft and around the tip. “You’ll stretch me tight,” she said, and sucked it wet. She pressed the bulb into him while the tip was still in her mouth.

“I’ve got lube,” he said and waved the bottle. His hole swallowed the bulb easily.

“Do you really think we need it?” she said as she tugged on him. It massaged his insides in all the right places. The bottle dropped to the bed. She pressed the thick shaft into her slit and it was instantly slippery. She rubbed herself against his cock, looking at him. His eyes were already closed with bliss, and his hands trembled on her hips. His sticky beard tickled her tits as she finally sank down onto him. She whipped her hips in expert circles that soon had him curled into himself, sucking on the bottoms of her breasts.

“Oh no you don’t.” She pushed him down into the pillows and pinched his nipples hard between her fingers as she rode. His moans got steadily more clipped as he neared orgasm, but she stopped suddenly.

“Wait. Didn’t you say you wanted to fuck me?” Sweat dripped between her breasts. She moved so the cock milked his sweet spot. “Hmm?” He gave her a lost look, and her pinching fingers squeezed harder. “Didn’t you?”

He sighed at the ache and caressed the sweat from her brow. She kissed the palm of his hand then moved it to her tit. “Fuck me!”

Her voice was big in his small bedroom, and he sat up quick and thrust into her. She threw her head back and groaned as his hips slapped wetly into hers. He smiled almost sweetly as she leaned back so he could see her tits jiggle and her belly and thigh muscles tighten with every thrust. She twisted her hip and turned quickly, getting on her hands and knees. He scrambled behind her and just looked. She was wide open with arousal, he could smell her from where he knelt. The cock bobbed slowly as his eager muscles tightened around the bulb buried deep inside him. She arched and her hard clit pointed at him.

“Hurry, before I finish myself off,” she said. He threw himself on her blindly. She was wet everywhere and his hands slid on her hips, his thighs on her ass as he fucked her quiet. Moans turned to gasps turned to deep breaths that got steadily deeper. He pinched her clit between his fingers and jerked her off with each thrust. Her hair stuck to her painted nape, and his mouth watered. He buried himself deep inside her as he licked her sweat. She cursed. Without thinking, he bit. Her chemicals made him ram into her hard enough to make their hip bones shiver. She turned and slid her tongue in his mouth, mingling sweet and savory. She inhaled deep and sucked the air out of his lungs, then groaned out the beginning of her orgasm. Her face was a rictus of agony, her dark eyes blind to his pleasure as she bucked beneath him. He slammed into her, both hands fondling her dripping wetness. He fucked with eyes closed and sucked his wet fingers. Soon, he’d lick every drop of cum from her still-twitching cunt. Soon, he’d bite the insides of her thighs. He’d suck marks into her firm flesh, make her squirm, then come. And come.

And come…

Her eyes rolled and her fingers dug into the tattooed woman’s hips. The waves of pleasure bumped up against the hard plastic inside her pussy, bounced off her hip bones and grew until she couldn’t hear her own moans. She fell backwards and panted shallowly. As the hiss in her ears died down, she heard the woman cooing between her legs as she licked her clean. Heat on heat on heat.

She scratched at the patches of hair still glued to her smooth skin and watched. The woman’s shiner was iridescent with her sweat and come.

“What happened?” she asked, referring to the shiner.

She shrugged and kissed her mound. “Shit n’ shit.”

She shook her head, not understanding.

“You happened too. The universe, it has interesting ways of balancing itself out,” the woman said, bowing between her legs again.

Latest Comments

Great story but could be so much better if you edit fairly severely and correct typos also. Erotica is a potent form but has many pitfalls such as cliches. Men rarely get the women right although woman writers seem to be able to nail men better.

Hey Rick, I wasn’t sure whether your last comment was a criticism or a compliment. The reason I say that is because the author of the story is a woman — Ximena. :) As for myself, whatever I post is usually littered with typos. I write first drafts for the blog; and for that reason, comments like yours are refreshing and welcome. Typos are simply the hazard of self-publishing, but do feel free to point out cliches.

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